How to Surprise Sherlock Holmes
by Kitty.M.Smith
Summary: It is a rather difficult endeavor to surprise Sherlock Holmes at all, let alone arrange a surprise on the day of his birthday. Good thing Molly's clever.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hope y'all enjoy this, just a fun little fic that'll make ya feel good. If you happen to also frequent AO3 and see this under a similar username with a tinkerbell icon, don't worry, it's me.

Sherlock - BBC, Arthur Conan Doyle

Any other content - Me

Sherlock never celebrated his birthday and it drove Molly mad. The most they'd ever done was get cake and he never asked for anything; two years together-yes, an honest true pairing much as she couldn't believe it- _two_ years and she'd never gotten him a present. She was usually respectful of peoples wishes, that's just how Molly was. But some part of it really bothered her and she thought she really ought to get him something at least _once_ in their relationship. Sure, she could have gotten him some science things or maybe a foot from the morgue but then she'd have to figure out something for Christmas and-oh, hell. She was sitting with him in 221B-she had her own chair, sat beside his of course-watching trash television and it took all she had not to make it obvious how frustrated she was. But then it was like angels sang because Sherlock realized he forgot to pay rent or something and paused the show and popped downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's. She rang John.

"Hello?"

"John! It's Molly. Quickly now I haven't much time, you have any idea what Sherlock would like as a present?"

John paused. He knew well as her Sherlock sort of avoided his birthday being a thing. "Well, did you ask him?"

"I have asked. He just pretends I haven't."

"Mm, not surprised. 'Fraid I haven't got a clue besides cake. Or cocaine-but don't get him that."

"You know I wouldn't." She smiled slightly when she heard Rosie babbling in the background. "Well, have I got your pledge if I figure something out?"

"Certainly. I'll even drag one of my mates in if it means annoying Sherlock."

Molly grinned as the gears began to turn in her head. "Oh, absolutely. Thanks John." And she hung up before Sherlock was back. He stopped when he saw her and narrowed his eyes while she looked over as if nothing had happened.

"Somethings on."

"Hm?"

"That look on your face. You only ever have that look if your hiding something from me – what did you do? Am I going to find a finger in my crisps again?" He immediately went to the bag on the side table by his chair.

"Oh, please. I only did that once." She beamed. This only served to make him more paranoid. It was a testament to how much had changed in the last couple years that he got a plate and dumped the crisps on it instead of upturning the bag on the table itself, sifting through the contents cautiously. "Oh, come on, it wasn't even _real_."

"You say that, yet I never know." He put the plate on the side table, seeming satisfied, then sat down and relaxed a bit in his chair with enough trash telly and crisps to keep him from going out in the rain. Last time he'd gotten particularly bored on a rainy day he'd ended up with a cold, which was _never_ a pleasant experience, especially for Molly. He would get a bit cuddly, which was nice as he wasn't usually the one to initiate much physical affection, but he was also annoying and would sometimes end up getting Molly sick, and if Molly got sick John would inevitably get it because she'd get it worse than Sherlock and poor John would have to make sure they didn't die, at which point Rosie would get quarantined with Mrs. Hudson while they all tried to recover or die, whichever came first.

She leaned over from her own chair and played with his hand, thinking on what to get him and what to do, subtly browsing Amazon a few moments before the idea, the perfect, perfect idea, came to her. It would be brilliant! Now all there was to do was find a reason to leave temporarily. It could be quite hard to fly under Sherlock's radar when he wasn't occupied with a case. Always on top of things; expression, pose, clothing, pulse and all of it-once he'd figured out she had just been trying to "secretly" Christmas shop by her breathing pattern (alright, and the rosy nose and cheeks and forehead and…Molly didn't color as well as she'd like) and further deduced she was hiding everything in Mrs. Hudson's car because it was the one thing of hers he didn't have a key to. So, it was quite difficult. Unless…

"Want to watch Maury?"

Sherlock shrugged slightly, so Molly went ahead and pulled it up on Netflix. Fifteen minutes later he had pulled his knees up to his chest and was shouting how it was so _obvious_ he was the father based on the sole of his boot or the crinkles of skin around his finger joints or the freckle pattern on the left side of his forehead or something. Molly had talked at the right moments and quietly texted John to meet her at a café for "Operation Camaraderie". A few more minutes and she stood up, looking at her phone. "Oh, Sherlock, seems Toby got out again, over at the neighbors. I'll be back."

"Hm? Yes, yes very good – bring chips?" He glanced over and Molly laughed a little because he perked up sort of like a puppy waiting for a treat. She promised him she would, grabbed her coat and then left. It was only a few blocks, so she walked, much as she might have liked a cab. But she wasn't so posh as Sherlock and the idea of the cost and tip was enough to deter her. John was waiting under the awning holding little Rosie all bundled up in a purple raincoat with little white poodles Molly had gotten her, which made her smile.

"Hello John! And Rosie, look how big you are!" She ruffled the already frizzy curls, making Rosie giggle. "Only saw you last week and I swear you've grown."

Rosie grinned, holding her forefinger in her mouth by the middle. Odd little habit, but it was better than sucking her thumb. John was happy as he always was when someone made Rosie smile. "Good to see you, Molly. Lets get in then, it's freezing."

They were settled quickly as it wasn't very busy, right by the window. The rain started falling in sheets and made the world all wibbly-wobbly, kind of what it was like when Molly wasn't wearing glasses or contacts. Except being able to see it properly made it prettier without all the colors blurring together. She paused to take a picture with her phone, thinking she might print it later with how pretty the car lights looked in the droplets streaking the window. Then she turned to John. "So, I think I've got an idea."

John shrugged off his coat over the back of the chair. "Ah yeah, "Operation Camaraderie" – what should I take from that?" He helped Rosie out of her coat.

"Well, mostly I just liked the word." She smiled sheepishly while tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "But I think it fits."

"Yeah?" They paused to order tea and milk for Rosie and then went back to it. "What exactly is your plan?"

Molly fiddled with one of the sugar packets. "Well, call me mad, but I think Sherlock gets lonely sometimes. I mean-without a case and all sometimes he just…gets a bit melancholy."

John paused and inclined his head. "Happens when you discover your human."

Molly relaxed. "I'm glad I'm not the only one that's noticed. It's weird."

"Yeah. Don't think it's noticeable less you've known him a long time."

Molly nodded, struck with the realization she'd known Sherlock for…a decade. And it'd taken a majority of that decade, one John Watson, and one very, very unexpected sibling discovery for him to begin to show himself at all. Hm. "Really. Well, then you might not think I'm so mad."

"Might I?"

"I want to get him a dog."

John sipped his tea thoughtfully and after a long, agonizing pause, nodded once. "Alright. Can't be too big."

She blinked. "That's it? you don't think it's a bad idea?"

He shook his head. "No, no. Was worried there might be a Redbeard connection but….well, no Irish Setters and not too big. He loves dogs more than humans anyway." He stopped. "Except maybe us-actually, no, no dogs are better."

"Dogs are better." She agreed.

"Doggies!" Rosie said, beaming.

"Just don't be surprised if he goes all," John stopped and stared blankly at the table a moment, then looked at her. "I think it happens when he gets overloaded."

Molly agreed, and they figured the rules quickly; smallish, intelligent and not quite a puppy but not too old, and good with children, or at least Rosie. With this in mind they Googled until they found a shelter nearby, hailed a cab, and were soon enough at Pawsome Pet Place. It did cross Molly's mind to let Sherlock pick his own dog, but she didn't really know if he'd actually do it for himself. Perhaps the thought had never occurred to him and she should have just said, "hey, love, let me get you a dog?" and he would have hopped up and found himself the smartest little mutt in the world. Maybe whatever dog they found would love them and hate Sherlock. Maybe it would growl and bite and piss on the rug and-oh no, what if this was a bad idea? Maybe it was and, oh dear, she'd gone and dragged John into it too! Oh dear, oh dear…

She worried at her lip but did her best to make it look like she was just thinking while looking at the dogs. Small, big, medium, of all coats, colors, dispositions and barks. They were quite cute some of them, and other's very friendly, but none quite struck her right. There was one chihuahua that looked like he might be quite smart, but then he pissed in his own food bowl, so she had to rule him out.

They didn't find anyone at that shelter, so they went ahead and tried another while Molly began to quietly wring her hands. Sherlock would have noticed her gone now. She had to think of a cover soo-oh, no, right now. A little violin chimed from her pocket, catching Rosie's attention.

 _? – SH_

That's all he'd sent. He wasn't worried, but curious. Likely still watching Maury, or maybe trying to make the hand he had in his fridge dance. _Meera_. That's it, that's all it needed. Meera, her lovely but chatty friend, had simply dropped by. Perfect. _Not perfect everything was going to go wrong and she'd be out too long and he'd get very suspicious and possibly worried-because he worried he never like to admit it but he really did – and probably not that she was with anyone he knew better but that was always sort of at the back of her mind and she really wasn't sure what she was doing or why she was even panicking suddenly on really Molly old girl you should have just bought a bloody cake you-_

"Hey, hey Molly are you alright?"

She snapped forward, turned and smiled. "Never better!" _If I pass out and die that'd be alright_.

John didn't look like he believed her and just gestured out the window. "Were here."

She stumbled out and followed into the rescue, but all they had were displeased cats and a mutt that tried to bite Rosie through the chain-link door. They tried one more rescue, and once again…nothing. Molly was devastated. Sure, she'd try again some other time, maybe make it some sort of date, but it wouldn't be quite the same. John could see the disappointment, she knew it was oh so obvious, and tried his best to cheer her up. He said they could just do cake again, they knew Sherlock liked that last time, it'd be fine, blah, blah, blah. He was so sweet and Molly felt bad she wasn't cheering up, but she went along with it and tried to keep chipper. Just as they were getting out of the cab in front of 221B Rosie pointed toward Speedy's excitedly. "Doggie!".


	2. Chapter 2

Molly and John looked, and there it was; a smallish dog, slightly scruffy black and tan fur and floppy ears, standing underneath the café's awning. When Molly walked towards it, it didn't budge. No collar, no leash. She knelt and made kissy noises. "Hey, there. Hey now, hello?"

The dog-a terrier now, she thought-cocked it's head and seemed to examine her thoughtfully before looking up and darting from the awning to Molly, standing where she leaned so the rain didn't hit him. _Oh. My. God._

"Is that a border terrier?" John sounded at a loss.

Molly began petting him, he was hardly damp. She got the feeling he'd been darting between awnings and such, knew how to keep dry-wait, should check that-yep, he. "Is that what he'd be called?" She decided to try picking him up, and he didn't protest in the least. His tongue lolled out and he gained a friendly smile and wagged his tail. She carried him inside quickly, Rosie jumping after like a rabbit and John bringing up the rear. When Molly set him down he sniffed excitedly and didn't shake until he stood on the welcome mat in front of Mrs. Hudson's flat.

"Yep, border terrier, least enough to look it." John showed Molly a picture on his phone. "Don't suppose he belongs to someone, do you?"

Molly looked at the little dog, a darling little thing just sitting on the welcome mat. Rosie slipped away from John to pet him before he could stop her, and while he jumped and sniffed her at first, he sat and let her pet and giggle. "No tags or anything. The poor things a bit skinny, isn't too young."

"Or too old." John added, watching Rosie with the dog. They must have stood there a good while because Molly got another text.

 _? Chips? - SH_

She laughed lightly. _Long line. Ran into John. Be there soon._ That ought to hold him off. She felt so, so much better, magically better. "John, I think you know what I'm thinking."

John nodded easily, going over and giving the dog a good back scratch that turned into a belly rub. "Who better for a dramatic detective than a smart dog with such brilliant timing?"

Molly went over, petting him as well. "Listen, why don't you go get chips, said I'd bring some, and I'll get him cleaned up a bit."

"Alright." John went and put on his coat again, musing. "Funny, certainly not the craziest thing I've ever done, but sort of feels like I'm going with it a bit too easily."

"Eh."

He went off, carting Rosie with to keep her from blabbing. Molly in turn knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door and managed to keep her from getting too excited when she explained what was going on. Soon enough he was washed and dried and fed some chicken. Mrs. Hudson found an old satin ribbon and tied it in a bow around his neck, and Molly found an absolutely huge Amazon box that was simply too hilarious to pass up. They sat it on the end so it was tall, about to Molly's hip, and placed the dog in with a slice of lunchmeat that he was all too happy to have.

John was back in record time with steaming chips and a little bag of dog food. "Figured the lad would appreciate it." He said while Mrs. Hudson put it in a birthday bag – what was it with little old ladies and always having birthday bags? Molly didn't question too much, just put the bag over her arm and folded the box closed, whispering to the dog that all was alright.

John went ahead while she carefully carried the box upright behind him, flanked by Mrs. Hudson, full the brim with nerves and grinning like an absolute idiot. Her heart was thudding far too much as they approached the door. John set Rosie down and let her open the door and wander in.

"Oh come on you fuc-Rosie?" Molly had to bite her lip to avoid laughing at the absolute bafflement in his voice, soon followed by an even more baffled, like he half expected Rosie to have just found her way there on her own, exclamation of "John?" When he entered.

"Hey mate, Molly told you I was coming, didn't she?" Crinkling of plates of chips.

"She said she ran into you, not that you were coming to the flat," he said. She could hear him digging into the chips and came up a few more steps, just out of the doorway but far enough she could rest the box on the landing. "Where is she, anyway?"

Mrs. Hudson managed to slip ahead of her and she quickly followed so they both burst in at once. "Happy Birthday Sherlock!"

Sherlock stopped mid chew, another chip halfway to his mouth with total surprise on his face. Real, genuine surprise! They'd got him, they'd actually surprised him! Molly was beaming so widely her face hurt because _damn it_ she'd surprised Sherlock Goddamn Holmes!

He started chewing again after a moment and seemed to take everything in for a moment, analyzing and comparing and contrasting or whatever you'd call it. "Bloody hell, Molly, how long did it take you to plan this?"

She grinned and she might have bounced. Just a little. "Oh, twenty minutes! John helped. And Mrs. Hudson."

"But it was her idea," John added, passing a chip down to Rosie, who had started getting to close to the box.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I didn't-I can't believe you-you know I don't-what's in the-" He gestured around with his chips and then sighed, shaking his head, and just when Molly was starting to worry he looked at her, and he was smiling, and then he was laughing with a hand on his head and running through his hair. "God, Molly, I'm so proud of you. You fooled me completely."

She was blushing so hard she covered her cheeks while Mrs. Hudson and John laughed and clapped and all that. Sherlock came over and hugged her, a real, proper, lingering hug that he usually only gave when they were alone because he hated seeing couples all over themselves in the streets and had no intention of being like that, which was true, but Molly also knew it was because he was so terribly new to everything and awkward and a little worried someone would get the idea to try and kidnap her. A fair worry, considering history, but Molly didn't think about all the reasons and logistics or what-have-you, she just hugged him back with her cheek pressed to his chest and enjoyed it.

Sherlock pressed his face into her hair and kissed the top of her head. "Clever, clever woman, you. Should have known soon as you asked about Maury."

Her laugh was muffled by his dressing gown. "I'll have to be even more clever next year."

A soft chuckle into her hair and another kiss on her head. He pulled back, casually tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling just slightly. She loved when he did that. He'd gotten to smiling more and more as time passed after the whole Euros debaucle. It was…wonderful. He turned towards the others, arm resting around Molly's shoulder's as he held her to his side. "Alright then, is it a science kit?"

"No." John said. "How many guesses have you got?"

Sherlock paused. "37-no, it's not on fire so far, so 36. Does it have anything to do with science?"

"No" John said.

"Murder?"

"No."

"Magazines, drug paraphernalia, or Madonna?"

"Wha-no. Madonna?"

"Hm, only 12 possibilities then." John looked like he was going to pursue the Madonna question when the box began shaking. Sherlock stopped and stared. It shook again. "Alright…three possibilities. Molly, are you still mad at me about the teagown incident?"

She shook her head. He furrowed his brow and walked to the box. "Hm. Two, then."

"Oh for Gods sake, Sherlock, open it!" Mrs. Hudson insisted, grinning.

Sherlock looked around the room again, staring a particularly long moment at the bag still around Molly's arm, but he only looked frustrated. Mrs. Hudson, bless her, had taped it shut on the inside. He had no hope of seeing the contents. Finally with a relinquished sigh Sherlock pulled open the top of the box and looked it.

And he was quiet.

Molly thought he might do the stare thing, but it was only a second later and he had snatched the little dog from the box with a loud yell of surprise and the grin of a child on Christmas. "OHMYGODYOUGOTMEADOG?!" His voice might have rattled the windows if his jump didn't. She might as well have given him a triple homicide and a serial murderr he was so excited and it was simply infectious, making every person in the room grin from ear to ear and Rosie dance around as the dog did it's best to clean Sherlock's face while Sherlock tried, but not really very hard, to stop him from doing that. He hugged the dog, petting his head and looking him over. She'd surprised him again, genuinely. _Fuck I am never going to top this_.

"Believe it or not, he found us." John said while coming over and offering a chip to the dog, who was very appreciative.

"You plucked him off the street?" Sherlock grinned and looked down. "You're hardly damp and not nearly as skinny as you should be. You're a smart little dog, aren't you?" The dog licked him again and wagged his tail. "Oh, yes you are. You are quite a smart dog. Never much cared for terriers but I do think he's an exception."

Mrs. Hudson clasped her hands together. "Oh, this is so good. I must get my camera." She left quickly.

John said something to Sherlock that Molly couldn't hear and Sherlock nodded, setting down the dog, who immediately went to sniffing out his new home. Sherlock paused to watch him before rushing to Molly, picking her up and swinging her around. When he put her down, she would say she looked quite baffled. "See there, Molly Hooper, you're turn to be surprised!"

She laughed out of astonishment and Sherlock kissed her on the lips once, then twice and then again a little longer, and sweeter, pulling her close with his hand gently on the back of her head. He broke when Mrs. Hudson was coming up the stairs again, standing as if he hadn't just been taking Molly's breath away, and went off to find the dog.

"Oh, Molly, you look flushed." Mrs. Hudson put the back of her hand to her forehead. "Oh, and you feel warm. Shouldn't have been out in that rain, no, no," she tsked while readying the camera.

"Oh no, Mrs. Hudson, it's just all the excitement." Molly told herself her voice didn't crack, but the look from Mrs. Hudson said otherwise. Sherlock came back with the dog and stood beside Molly while Mrs. Hudson tried to set up the camera on a timer.

"This is our son, by the way." Sherlock said matter of factly.

Molly grinned. "Does that mean I get to help name him?"

"Absolutely not."

"How rude."

Sherlock looked at her and pouted. "It's my birthday. I get to name him. I already have."

Molly chuckled quietly while John tried to help Mrs. Hudson, who insisted she didn't need help at all though she really, really did. "Well, what is his name, then?"

"Jack." The animal in question perked his ears. "See, he's already learned it. Smart boy, good boy," he started scratching behind Jack's ears.

Molly paused, then smirked. "Ah, Calico Jack."

The faintest red tint colored Sherlock's cheeks. "How did you-"

Molly turned to face him as Mrs. Hudson gestured for them to join John and Rosie and tapped his nose. "Oh really now, if I can fool the great Sherlock Holmes with only 20 minutes planning what makes you believe for a second I wouldn't connect "Jack" to his ever present pirate obsession? Come on, dear, I thought you knew I was clever."

He laughed. "Oh, I do."

Sherlock normally didn't favor pictures, but he also normally didn't like birthdays or the fuss that comes with them, so continuing the unconventional mood of his by willingly posing with his family on his birthday for a picture with his slightly damp, scruffy present held securely in one arm was not entirely surprising by this point. What was surprising was when he looked straight at the camera, put his other arm around Molly, and smiled.


End file.
